


in which perkins is pissed

by twinkshish



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental wetting, Desperation, Gen, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, Omorashi, Situational Humiliation, Wetting, piss without plot (pwp), yall i wish i could say more but its literally just piss h
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 18:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkshish/pseuds/twinkshish
Summary: Richard Perkins is a prideful man.





	in which perkins is pissed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GavsButt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GavsButt/gifts).



> god i fucking hate this anyway warning for the big pee pee

How the  _ fuck  _ did he get here?

 

Perkins cursed silently under his breath, squirming in his seat, subtly pressing his cock into the metal chair as he mentally flipped off whatever deity decided to put him in this situation. His entire body was tense, and he wiped his sweaty palms on his dress pants, resolutely avoiding the piercing brown gaze of that  _ fucking  _ android. Of-fucking-course, it was just his luck that the RK800– _ Connor— _ was there. He was almost certain that he was paired with the android out of some form of divine punishment; there was no other reason he had to be holed up in a stuffy room for hours under the judging scrutiny of someone who had every reason to have it out for him, and that someone was currently witness to his humiliation.

 

That humiliation was a simple one,  _ annoyingly  _ simple. Frankly, he had to piss like a fuckin’ racehorse, which became even more apparent as another wave of desperation hit him. Perkins rolled his hips against his chair as inconspicuously as he could, biting back a pained hiss. If the android noticed anything, it didn’t say anything, its stupid fucking LED circling a serene blue. The plastic asshole was doing just fucking fine; it had been more or less been silent for the past three hours. It probably never had to deal with anything like this, and Perkins hated it even more. 

 

“Are you alright, Agent?” 

 

Perkins jumped a little, very nearly leaking. He covered it up as best as he could, leaning on the table and schooling his face into a carefully neutral expression. The tension in his face was apparent, and he prayed that the android wouldn’t point it out. The RK800 seemed disinterested, looking at him with little more than a trace of professional concern. Gritting his teeth, Perkins seethed under his skin. He was a capable agent—he was  _ more  _ than capable, and he would not hold up this investigation for a fucking potty break.

 

“I’m fine,” he bit out, voice slightly strained. He forced himself not to squirm under the android’s gaze, sweat rolling down his back from the heat, the heat and absolutely nothing else. He could do this. He could hold it, he was  _ not  _ a child, and he could do this.

 

Oh, jesus christ,  _ he could not do this. _

 

No. He was not going to think about pissing himself, because he was going to hold it like a fucking adult and pee in the toilet when he finally,  _ finally  _ would be done with watching their suspect, and that wasn’t going to be much longer, he just had to wait and then he’d finally have  _ relief… _

 

Perkins groaned softly in pain and embarrassment as the urge grew tenfold, gripping his thigh and bouncing his leg. He fought back the thought of shoving a hand into his crotch (and god, was that  _ tempting).  _ This caught the android’s attention,  _ fuck,  _ and its LED flashed yellow. Great, fucking  _ great.  _ “Mind your own damn business,” he snapped, voice wavering, face growing hotter with shame. 

 

“You are sweating excessively, and your face has gone red,” it pointed out,  _ helpfully.  _ “Are you feeling alright? Perhaps I could get you some water—“

 

“Didn’t you fucking hear me?” Oh god, not water, oh hell no, don’t think about that. Perkins bounced his leg faster, the added anxiety of the RK800  _ knowing  _ making his need grow even more. “I said,  _ mind your own damn business.”  _ His breath came quick and shallow as he forced himself to hold it. He felt like he was going to lose it any second now—no. He could hold it, oh god, he  _ had  _ to hold it because the alternative was much,  _ much  _ worse. 

 

“...Very well.” The android grew silent, its LED still spinning yellow, and if Perkins had been able to pay attention to more than his need, he would’ve laughed. The plastic prick’s feelings were  _ hurt _ ; how fucking adorable. He’d laugh, but he’d probably lose control and  _ oh fuck.  _ Perkins inhaled sharply and grinded against his chair again, desperately putting as much pressure on his cock as he could without holding himself like a toddler. It felt like the piss was gathering in his dick, ready to let go at any moment. If he lost his concentration, if he relaxed for even a  _ second… _

 

_ “Agent Perkins.”  _

 

Shit.  _ Shit.  _ Something just leaked out,  _ shit,  _ and he clenched his sphincter muscles, choking back the desperate whine that crept up his throat. He forced himself to stop, the dribble of piss wetting his briefs. Glancing down, Perkins couldn’t see any visible damage, but he doubted the thin material would hold out much longer. He vaguely realized the android was staring him down, staring him down and  _ talking to him.  _ Fuck. 

 

“Agent, if you aren’t feeling well, please do not leave it unaddressed,” it stressed, something akin to concern on its face. Yeah, fat fucking  _ chance;  _ everything it did was artificial, including that attempt at empathy, and Perkins wasn’t going to fall for it. Yet he still felt a pang of  _ something  _ in his gut, something that told him that what the android had to say came from a genuinely caring place, and  _ oh fuck,  _ the humiliation was building by the second. “If there’s anything you need, or if you need to step out, feel free to do so. I can handle things alone, if need be.”

 

Oh  _ hell  _ no. Perkins had already embarrassed himself enough in front of the android, and he was not going to push it further. He was a grown-ass adult, a  _ highly capable  _ adult with a reputation to uphold and ample pride to defend. He was one of the most respected agents in the FBI, he was the motherfucking  _ Jackal,  _ and there was absolutely no way in hell he was going to ask for a potty break like a pathetic child. He’d have to tough it out; he’d done it before, and he could easily do it again. He could control himself, no matter how fucking badly he needed to go. Pressing his legs together as tightly as he could, sandwiching his cock between them, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to wait. 

 

Each minute passed by slowly and  _ painfully.  _ Perkins couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the door every few seconds, waiting and pleading silently for someone to come and relieve them of their duty— _ fuck,  _ wrong word choice. He was tense all over to the tip of his toes, unable to relax any of his muscles as he warred with his body. The second he slipped up, he knew there would be disaster. It felt like he was going to piss at any moment now, and the only thing that was stopping him was his own will. He was completely still now, hardly moving as he tried so desperately to keep it all in. Fuck, fuck, he was going to lose it, he had to piss,  _ fuckfuckfuckfuck— _

 

Oh no. Oh god,  _ no.  _ He was leaking; he was leaking, a small, steady stream of piss dribbling out of his cock and dampening his underwear, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t stop it. He shoved a hand between his legs, gripping his crotch tightly and grinding into his palm, hunching over himself. It was now painfully obvious what was wrong, and he could feel that stupid fucking android’s eyes scanning him, judging him,  _ mocking  _ him. The trickle died off; Perkins wasn’t sure of the damage, but his palm felt wet against his slacks, and  _ that  _ wasn’t encouraging. His face was on fire, and he refused to meet the android’s eyes. Maybe they could pretend this never happened, maybe he could sneak off to a bathroom without anyone noticing...but no, that would be impossible. The precinct was packed, and he didn’t know how to find his way around. Would he even be able to hold it if he left now? What would be worse: pissing himself in front of a useless robot who he despised, or a dozen faceless officers? 

 

“...Do you need the restroom?” Even those words made his face hot with shame; if he wasn’t so busy holding himself, Perkins would’ve buried his head in his hands. The android stood—actually  _ stood— _ and crossed the room towards him, kneeling down to his eye level, and he had never felt smaller. “I can handle things here. You should take care of that, Agent Perkins. You will harm yourself if you continue to hold it further.” 

 

Perkins was ready to retort, fiery words on the tip of his tongue, but they were cut off by a long groan as he leaked  _ again,  _ this time a jet of urine streaming down his leg. He rutted against his chair shamelessly, just barely stopping himself from completely soaking his pants. Oh,  _ fuck,  _ he was going to die here, or piss himself, and that was basically the same thing. A pit of fear opened up in his stomach; even if he left right now, he wasn’t sure if he could make it. He was on the verge of wetting himself, his bladder pressing into his waistband urgently, and he rocked back and forth, just desperately trying to keep himself from humiliating himself once and for all. The android’s brows furrowed, the perfect picture of worry, and Perkins wanted to slap the look off of its face. How fucking dare he— _ it  _ act like it gave a shit about his situation? God fucking  _ damnit,  _ he was sick of shaming himself in front of a fucking android. He was going to the bathroom, he was going to make it to a fucking toilet, and  _ he was not wetting himself in front of that android.  _

 

Perkins stood suddenly, hand still shoved between his thighs, ready to make a mad dash to the restroom if he had to. But gravity was not on his side; his bladder felt so,  _ so  _ much heavier and fuller, and he finally gave out with a lewd moan. Urine ran down his shaking legs, splashing loudly on the concrete floor as the android stepped back suddenly to avoid the growing puddle of piss. He was trembling, and he collapsed, too weak and tired from holding it to support himself. He sunk to his knees into his own piss, soft pants of relief escaping him. The stream was still going strong even as his bladder fully relaxed. 

 

The android was shocked, his— _ its  _ brown eyes wide as it watched the puddle grow, its LED still yellow (how fitting.) Finally, after what seemed like  _ ages,  _ the piss died down, save for a few last spurts. Perkins just sat there as the humiliation hit him. He wanted to curl up in a ball and die, or yell at the android, or cry, or all three, and he refused to look him—it in the eye. 

 

“Nobody fucking hears about this, got it?”

 

“...Understood, Agent.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on my phone so the formatting is probably wack dont shoot me.
> 
> want to meet the ppl who bullied me into writing this? https://discord.gg/3hP9s76 (its not all piss thank the lord, theres general and nsfw chats as well)


End file.
